


Spy Games

by Nonesane



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassians with tails, Holodecks/Holosuites, M/M, Roleplay, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonesane/pseuds/Nonesane
Summary: Garak and Bashir spend some time on the holodeck, enjoying a spy novel of Bashir's.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this lovely artwork](http://yamiswift.tumblr.com/post/151392418204/like-an-old-spy-movie-my-piece-for-the) by **yamiswift** for the [DS9 Reverse Bang](http://ds9reversebang.tumblr.com/). Many thanks to **yamiswift** not only for making such lovely art work, but also for beta reading this story!

"Agent," Garak said, taking a seat on the illusion of a bench inside the simulacrum of a museum. People were milling about the exhibit, admiring and criticizing paintings and sculptures alike, but the only real person present beside himself was the man sitting next to him.  
  
"Agent," Bashir replied. He was reading a newspaper with so little conviction Garak had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Had this been a real meeting between two agents of opposing nations this clumsy attempt at nonchalance could have been taken for a strategy in and of itself. Could have, if the other "agent" had any form of experience. Bashir might enjoy spy games, but he was charmingly ignorant of how they tended to play out in the real world.  
  
_Though not as ignorant as when we first met,_ Garak reminded himself and wrapped his tail around one of the bench's legs. A bit of an obvious gesture to be sure, but they were going for obvious, weren't they? If Bashir took note of it — he had been getting better at reading Cardassian body language — it would be possible to play it off as part of this charade they were partaking in.  
  
"Will your leaders agree to the exchange?"  
  
Garak took a moment to enjoy the feigned air of indifference that Bashir worked so hard to put on. It was an interesting contrast to how giddy he'd been when Garak had agreed to revisit this little game of his. Well, not so giddy at first, admittedly, but he'd come around, after-  
  
_Focus, Elim,_ Garak reprimanded himself. His eyes had strayed to the line of Bashir's throat; the suit accentuated it in a most attractive fashion. "The Cardassian government have agreed to the trade, yes," he said, taking his time with changing the aim of his gaze. Garak's philosophy had always been thus: if your opponent caught you in a misstep you should do your best to convince them it was a vital part of an unknown plan.  
  
During the first months of their acquaintance a look like this one would have earned him a blush or a bout of stammering from Bashir. Now it only got him a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile. _How time flies._  
  
"That is good news," Bashir said, smile widening into a grin. "The usual drop point?"  
  
"No." Though this story had none of the complexities of a Cardassian enigma tale Garak had done his homework. He'd even offered to play an agent of a Human country, but Bashir's take on including a Cardassian nation in this had been far too amusing to turn down. It made his role easier to play too — on the job experience wasn't something most people could boast with in holodeck fantasies.  
  
"No?" Bashir asked, having turned in his seat to face Garak. "What's changed?"  
  
"The Color Agents," Garak managed to say, with a straight face and all. He could thank years and years of professional lying for that one. "They seem to have located several of our assets in the last three months. My government wishes for the utmost caution in this, to avoid further mishaps."  
  
That lit a glint in Bashir's eyes that Garak couldn't quite place. "Oh, but when have you ever let down your government, agent?"  
  
Garak knew his smiled showed far too many teeth for a second. _Careful, my friend,_ was what he didn't say, but only because he had excellent self-control. "Are you questioning my motives, _agent_?"  
  
"Never," Bashir said, a chuckle echoing behind his words. "We'll have our people set up a new meeting place. This should all blow over in a week or two."  
  
If Garak remembered correctly, Humans had a saying about playing with fire. That hadn't really surprised him when he'd heard it the first time, but it was coming to mind more and more the longer he spent with Bashir like...this. "It sounds like our work here is done."  
  
"It does," Bashir agreed, folding his newspaper. "I think that calls for a celebration!"  
  
"Oh?" Garak tilted his head to the side in a gesture of attentive listening.  
  
This earned him another grin from Bashir. "Meet me at the restaurant."  
  
That threw Garak for a loop, if only for a moment. He thought he'd read up on their little adventure, but clearly his friend had something more up his sleeve. "What restaurant would that be?"  
  
"Why our restaurant of course," Bashir said, getting up from his seat. He left the newspaper on the bench, open on the page with the day's crossword puzzle.  
  
Garak stifled a sigh. His young friend was far too fond of over the top riddles and codes. But he picked up the crossword and went to work on it without voicing any complaints. Hopefully he'd figure out where he was supposed to go before their holodeck time ran out.

****

The dazzling smile Bashir welcomed him with made the half an hour of code breaking worth the while. "You made it!"  
  
"Have you so little faith in my skills that you thought I wouldn't find you?" Garak asked, taking a seat opposite Bashir. The museum, followed by several streets, had been replaced by the outdoor part of a restaurant for fine dining. It was a good thing Bashir had insisted on them both wearing tuxedos — not that Garak had complained — because story or not Garak was sure the staff would have refused him entry if he'd been wearing anything but.  
  
"Oh, I have plenty of faith in you, agent." There was challenge in Bashir's expression, that much Garak was sure of, though what kind of a challenge remained a mystery. Then again, anyone with a hint of imagination could reason their way to possible explanations. Garak had always prided himself with having a vivid and creative imagination.  
  
"Cards?" Garak asked, gesturing at the deck spread out on the table before him. A number of them were hidden under Bashir's elbows as he leaned forward to answer:  
  
"I thought we'd enjoy a game of chance while we await our dinner," he said, smirking. The expression still looked a little out of place on that young face, even though he'd earned the right to be smug now and again.  
  
Choosing to follow Bashir's lead Garak mimicked his smile and leaned across the table. "I didn't think this was the kind of establishment that would allow such things."  
  
"I happen to be friends with the owner," Bashir said, "as you well know."  
  
Garak knew no such thing, but allowed the charade to continue. These sort of games were always far more interesting when they came with surprises.  
  
"If you doubt me, I'll give you further proof." Without hesitation Bashir stuck a hand inside his immaculate jacket and unholstered the pistol Garak knew he'd been carrying. The pistol ended up on the table, right on top of the cards. Not a single customer at the tables around them so much as blinked and no waiters came to issue warnings. At the same time Garak heard the unmistakable sound of shoes being removed. It spoke to the strange excitement of the moment that Garak felt no urge to admonish Bashir for taking such little care with his footwear as to push out of them without untying them first.  
  
_My, my, this is taking an interesting turn._ Garak allowed his elbow to brush again the barrel of the pistol as he shifted to rest his chin in one hand. "Agent," he said and this time the title didn't feel quite so ridiculous, "why this _display_ all of a sudden?"  
  
Bashir looked well pleased with himself. "I have been thinking," he said, and as he spoke Garak felt a sock-clad foot brush against his ankle, "about the exchange."  
  
"Have you now?"  
  
The foot traveled higher, lifting the leg of Garak's pants to expose scaled skin to the warm evening breeze. "I should like to be a part of it."  
  
_Impressive,_ Garak thought, _and oh so foolish_. It was dangerous ground Bashir chose to tread on, brushing too close to reality for true comfort. But challenges like these were the most enjoyable to face, at least in Garak's opinion. He hadn't picked Bashir's companionship for easy conversation. "Defecting, are we?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
A shot rang out.  
  
Garak was on his feet at the same time as Bashir, both with weapons drawn. They'd toppled over the small table they'd been seated at, but it gave no real cover. Garak spotted three enemy combatants, all climbing over the railing that separated the restaurant from the park outside.  
  
_This definitely wasn't in the preparation material,_ Garak thought, stifling a chuckle. The doctor so enjoyed his dramatics.  
  
Bashir proved this point immediately by shouting "Down!" and pushing Garak to the side. Not to be out done in this fantasy scenario Garak found his footing and began to fire upon their opponents (who seemed to have terrible aim).  
  
Within minutes the purpose of these sudden assailants became clear. Garak ended up pinned to a pillar, Bashir more or less shielding him from incoming bullets. _Not my finest moment._ Though seeing as Bashir had clearly manipulated the outcome of this firefight a great deal it was hard to be anything other than amused at this predicament.  
  
The three opponents who'd started the firefight had gone down fairly swiftly, but there appeared to be no end in sight to their replacements. Garak was about to ask if there could be a glitch in the system when Bashir pressed closer; the smile he wore now was fueled by pure adrenaline and exhilaration.  
  
"I think we'll need to lie low for a bit," Bashir whispered, warm breath ghosting over Garak's ear in a most pleasant fashion. "I have an apartment. It's not far."  
  
And without ceremony Garak was again left alone, as Bashir pushed off of him and darted for the exit. At least this time he had plenty of imaginary enemies to entertain himself with dodging while he gave chase.

**** 

The apartment was surprisingly understated. Garak had been expecting velvet curtains and golden decorations on every available surface. Instead he'd ended up in a tastefully simple room with many wood details and muted colors. He might have thought he'd gone through the wrong door if Bashir hadn't been standing in the middle of the main room, bow-tie undone and slung over his shoulders.  
  
"Drink?" Bashir asked, not sounding the least out of breath. He held up a glass of kanar.  
  
Garak shook his head. He'd paused outside the apartment to catch his breath, but made doubly sure he'd sound composed before he spoke: "For a man interested in joining the Cardassian nation you make a poor case for yourself."  
  
"Do I?" Bashir asked, all innocence. He took a sip of the kanar and leaned against the cooking island that occupied the left side of the room. His body language vaguely reminded Garak of another character from a program similar to this one, but the character's name wouldn't come to him. However, the name of a concept did.  
  
_'Femme fatale' elements, really my dear?_ Garak thought, letting his lips spread in a smug smile of his own. _And here I thought you were too busy playing the part of the hero to care about nuances. Well played._  
  
"Did you think I wouldn't notice those were your people, shooting at us?" Garak asked, stalking closer. Bashir didn't move. "It would have been an excellent cover, if your side hadn't picked people I would recognize. Or was that deliberate?" He halted with a mere hand's breadth between them, allowing his tail to lash back and forth in mild annoyance.  
  
"What if I told you they attacked us because they see you as my only way into Cardassia?" Bashir shot back, swirling the kanar around in its glass, the blue liquid almost shining in the room's low light. "I'd need you to vouch for me, or I'd be shot on sight at the exchange. Don't pretend like you've forgotten that detail."  
  
They could have drawn this word game out for hours. Garak almost wished they could have, but with the holodeck time limit looming over them it wouldn't do to dally. That this gave him a reason to cave to his own impatience was a silver lining on a cloud, as the Humans were so fond of saying.  
  
Cardassian tails do not have a mind of their own, no matter what propaganda other species might spread. Garak very intentionally let his wrap around calf of Bashir's left leg, giving it a meaningful squeeze.  
  
"Are all these theatrics necessary?" he asked, lowering his voice into a mock-whisper. "I assure you my "side" has no issues with our...acquaintanceship."  
  
"I can imagine," Bashir said, and there was a weight to his words that teetered far too close to reality.  
  
Garak knew what Bashir was doing, but he let himself be goaded. Without hesitation he reached out with both hands and tail, grabbing Bashir by shoulders and waist. The kiss he initiated wasn't outright aggressive, but neither was it gentle. Bashir responded in kind, tangling his fingers in Garak's hair.  
  
The move to the bedroom — because of course Bashir's fantasy apartment had a big bedroom with a big bed — could have been more graceful, but neither of them had the attention to spare for such things. At least their tuxedos wouldn't be a wrinkled mess come evening.  
  
"As pleasant as your company is," Garak said as he pinned a nude Bashir to the mattress, "I do hope you realize it's not the only reason I've been seeking to have you "join the winning side", as you have so succinctly put it before."  
  
"It isn't?" Bashir said, doing an odd, very Human motion with his eyebrows. It should have looked ridiculous, but ended up endearing.  
  
Lowering himself until their chests touched, Garak said, "Not the only reason, no," before leaving a trail of bites down Bashir's throat. "You have many useful talents outside the bedroom, my dear."  
  
"Oh, you mean like this?"  
  
It was a predictable move, but Garak let Bashir have the upper hand, rolling them over on the bed. It helped that Bashir dug his fingers into Garak's shoulder ridges as he sought to restrain him; a cheat he'd likely employed deliberately.  
  
Garak allowed himself a groan of pleasure, just long enough to watch the playful triumph in Bashir's eyes. Then he let his tail snake up Bashir's thigh and wrap around his waist again, putting pressure on places that drew the loveliest of moans.  
  
"Like that," Garak conceded, enjoying the way Bashir's breath hitched with each shift of the tail. "And other things. With your position in your organization I'm sure there's plenty of useful information you could share with me."  
  
"You," Bashir said, but was cut short as Garak raked his nails down his sides, drawing a gasp. It took him a second to catch his breath enough to speak again. "You're going to try and get me to talk, are you?" He didn't sound the least bit distressed at this prospect.  
  
"Oh my dear," Garak said, "there will be no "trying" involved." He again allowed himself a smile with far too many teeth. "You should have known better than to let me learn so much about you." He shifted his weight, moving his tail lower, to restrain one of Bashir's ankles. "I think we shall start with the location of your headquarters and this lovely thigh of yours..."

****

The alarm on the bedside table chirped. Garak curled in on himself, annoyed at the interruption of his pleasant dozing. He hadn't been fully asleep, but the warmth of the bedding around him, combined with the warmer presence at his back had made for excellent aid in relaxation. That was something not easy come by at a place like th-  
  
This train of thought was derailed by a sharp nip to his right shoulder, followed by a half-sleepy: "We still have twenty minutes."  
  
"How crude you are, my dear."  
  
Bashir chuckled. "You don't know the half of it."  
  
Garak stretched. He thought about quoting some of the more foulmouthed things Bashir had been all but yelling not half an hour previous, but thought better of it. "If you're so keen on having your money's worth, lead the way."  
  
They made good use of their last twenty minutes.


End file.
